Thyrane

The scissors of sinful lust clip the angelic wings, all the grievance of the past now culminates.
Rejected is the rotten fruit in the heavenly gardens, and praised are the names of the fallen ones.
Let your slaves come to me and i shall teach them impurity.
Thy world decorated with chaos, what a pleasant sight that is.
Behold the arrival of beasts and pestilence.
The rope tightens around thy necks.
A new sun in summoned to rise, to provide warmth in which to rot.